I'll Always Find You
by PhoenixLament89
Summary: Abby is accused of murder after an old "friend" of hers is found dead at Abby's apartment and Abby is missing
1. Murderess Abby, or Not

Tony breezed into the bullpen, late, but still flashing his dazzling smile, and carrying a cup of hot coffee to soften up his boss. His confident steps faltered as he realized that he was completely alone. His well thought out excuse for being late vanished from his mind as he wondered where everyone was.

He went over to his desk and found a note taped to his computer.

_Tony-_

_Something's happened at Abby's. Gibbs' pissed off that you're late. Meet us there._

_-McGee_

Tony studied the note. It looked as though McGee had written it quickly. He reread the first sentence, which hadn't quite sunk in. Something's up at Abby's. He quickly tossed the cooling coffee into the trash and headed back to the elevator, on his way to Abby's.

When he arrived at Abby's apartment building, Tony was first struck by how many people were there. There were police cars everywhere. Flashing his badge to get in, he sprinted up to Abby's floor. Her door was open when he got there, and he could see Ducky leaning over a very female looking body on the floor.

Tony sighed with relief the moment that he realized that it wasn't Abby. "What happened here, Ducky?" he asked, hoping to learn something to soften up his boss.

"Go ask Jethro," was Ducky's icy reply, "He won't admit it, but he was worried about you." Tony sighed again, he had been afraid of this. He was about to ask where his boss was when he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder. He turned and found that it belonged to Gibbs. His eyes shone with worry, anger, and possibly even fear.

"What happened?" asked Tony before Gibbs could say a word.

"Abby's neighbors reported more screaming than usual last night. When the police arrived they found our Jane Doe and Abby was gone," Gibbs replied, his voice hiding the worry that was shining in his eyes.

"How'd she die, Ducky?" He asked, turning to the coroner.

"It would appear that she was stabbed. Three times, to be precise," said Ducky, pointing out the wounds, "Once in the stomach, and twice in the chest. It was the third one that killed the poor dear though, right through the heart.

"We found the knife that did it," said McGee coming over and holding up an evidence bag. The bloody knife inside had a carved handle, in the shape of a skull.

"But that's the knife I gave Abby for her birthday last year," said Tony, his voice trailing off. Gibbs nodded.

"So that makes it look like-" began Tony.

"Abby killed this woman," Ziva finished, joining them.

"But that can't be it! We're missing something," said Tony emotionally, not believing Abby to be a murderer.

"All the evidence is circumstantial for now," said McGee, "She's innocent until proven guilty."

"Then we need to find her, and soon," stated Gibbs.

Back at the office McGee and Ziva got to work on identifying the dead woman, Ducky was doing the autopsy on Jane Doe, and Tony got the evidence down to the forensic temp. Gibbs on the other hand was immediately summoned to the Director's office.

Gibbs climbed the stairs to MTAC angrily. He brushed past Cynthia, the secretary, angrily. He burst into the Director's office, angrily.

"No, Jen," he said angrily.

"Special Agent Gibbs, how nice of you to knock," the redhead said without looking up.

"Cut the crap, Jen," Gibbs replied, "The FBI is not taking over this case."

"It's not up to you, Gibbs. You're too close to Abby to handle this one," the Director argued.

"I'm taking this case," he told her forcefully, and then he left, leaving the Director shaking her head in disbelief of his stubbornness.


	2. Cells, Hallways and Knives

When Abby first awoke, she was confused. Then she was angry at herself for being confused. It was not her job to be confused, more like it was to help confused people. She tried to remember the last thing that had happened to her. She had been picking out which necklace to where the next day, choosing between her spiky dog collar, and her skull, when someone had knocked at the door. She recalled wondering who it could be as she answered, but after that her memory went blank. Instead of focusing on that, she decided to look around. She was in a small, windowless room; it was more like a cell she decided. It was completely empty, without even a light, but there was a plain door on one wall. She stood up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy.

"Where the crap am I?" she asked out loud, banging on the door.

It remained solidly shut and locked. Okay, she thought, what should I do, what to do? She absentmindedly fingered the silver cross around her neck.

"That's it!" she exclaimed aloud. Taking of the necklace, she jammed the end of the pointed cross into the keyhole. Jiggling it slightly it came unlocked, with a satisfying click! Before opening the door, she paused to think. There was no telling what was awaiting her on the other side, but on the other hand, who knew what would happen to her in here? She put her hand on the doorknob, at least the element of surprise would be on her side. She opened the door…

As Gibbs descended the stairs from MTAC, he saw the dejected looks on his team member's faces.

"What have we got?" he asked trying to sound confident. Tony stepped forward first.

"The temp ran the prints on the knife. All of them were Abby's," he reported.

"The Jane Doe we found is really Krystal Tillon, an old roommate of Abby's. They had a big falling out a couple of years ago and supposedly haven't spoken since," McGee said when Tony was done.

"Ducky says the autopsy confirmed what we already know, but there were traces of alcohol in her blood and finger prints on her neck. We're running them now," Ziva contributed.

Gibbs looked over his team. All evidence here pointed to Abby being the murderess at hand, and they knew it. The worry on each of their faces shone bright as day. He knew something was missing, though. His gut told him so, it was something obvious.

"Tony, Ziva- go back to her apartment. Go over everything, her computer, everything that could help. You understand? Search all of the cars in the lot. Find out who they belong to and how long they've been there. McGee- go help the temp. Computer simulations, anything will help us figure this out. I want to know exactly what happened from the time the dead girl got there to the time we did. Something's not right. We are going to find out who did this. Now go!" he ordered. All three agents nodded, glad that their boss still had faith in Abby. They rushed to work. Gibbs grimaced. They were going to get to the bottom of this mess, for Abby's sake at least.

The hallway was empty. Abby cautiously stepped out of her cell and quietly closed the door behind her. She wandered down the hallway, feeling as though she were in a dream; except that her dreams usually had her computers come alive and chase her around with DiNozzo. The building reminded her of a hospital. That is until she spotted an armed guard. Quickly she ducked through a door on her right to avoid being seen. She soon realized that this was a mistake.

"Ah, Abby, dear," said a voice behind her in a strong English accent, "I was wondering when you'd join us." She spun around. She was in an office, and sitting behind the mahogany desk was a tall thin man. He looked somehow like a very important kind of person, with the air of control around him.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked, "Why am I here? What hap-"

"I'm Jonathon Wesley, but we've no time for questions now," he said cutting her off, "Shouldn't you be back in your room?" A large hand clamped over her mouth from behind. It was the guard she had seen earlier. She instinctively tried to scream as he lifted her bodily off of the floor. She struggled as he half-carried, half-dragged her back to the cell. She only went quiet when she threatened her with his machine gun. It was clear by his sick smile that he would love to shoot her.

When they arrived he took her jewelry, not wanting to provide her the means to escape again. He took everything, from the necklace she had used earlier, to the ring on her finger and the bracelets on her wrists.

Once he was gone, she sat in a corner, crying, and feeling naked without her precious jewelry. _Please let them find me_, she begged silently before the urge to rest overcame her will to stay awake.


	3. Hope?

An hour later Ziva and Tony arrived back at the office. Gibbs was waiting for their results at his desk.

"What'd you find?" he asked, noting their smiles.

"Something very interesting, Boss," said Ziva, and surprisingly let Tony explain. Weird, thought Gibbs, they're not fighting, this must be good.

"We checked all the cars in the lot, and surprisingly, Abby's is still there, but both of their keys are also there. We also found more prints on the door; they didn't belong to Abby or Tillon. McGee's running through the system," he told Gibbs. At that moment the phone rang.

"Gibbs," he said into the receiver when he answered, listening for a moment, before replying.

"We're on our way," he said and hung up, "McGee has our results," he said in answer to Ziva's questioning look. She nodded and the three of them headed down to the lab.

As they walked into the lab, the first thing that they noticed was the lab temp, hovering over a computer, and shooting nervous glances at McGee. She was a small thin woman, in her late twenties, with red hair and glasses. McGee cast an angry look in her direction. He couldn't even believe her nerve! Who did this woman think she was, coming in here and doing Abby's job, in Abby's lab, using Abby's computers? It was an insult to Abby. Tony shot McGee a look, that clearly read, 'be nice'. McGee rolled his eyes.

"The fingerprints you guys found belong to Jonathon Wesley," he told them and a picture of him came up on the screen. He was a thin man, tall with wiry brown hair. McGee continued, "Wesley is wanted for theft, murder, you name it, he's done it. NCIS helped put him away a few years back for murder. He broke out last year and has been on the run ever since. Gibbs nodded, he remembered Wesley, he had helped with the case.

"So either, he and Abby are in some heist together, or Wesley's out for revenge on Gibbs, through Abby," said Tony.

"Exactly," replied McGee.

When Abby woke up, she had momentarily forgotten what had happened to her. Then all at once her memories came rushing back to her, including what had happened when she had answered the door last night, or was it two nights ago?

It was becoming difficult to keep track of how long had passed since she had woken up the first time. She replayed that night in her head;

Krystal had been at the door when she answered, slightly drunk, and bearing the gift of a six pack. Abby had let her in, she felt terrible about their fight. When she had entered the apartment, Krystal had pulled out a gun. She had threatened Abby with it, said that she had to kill her, it was her job. Thinking fast, Abby had grabbed her knife, off of a nearby table. It was her least favorite one, Tony had given it to her on her last birthday. He had been so excited about it she couldn't refuse it.

Abby had knocked the gun out of Krystal's hand. They proceeded to fight, punches and kicks flashing between them, until Abby was forced to stab her in the stomach as she reached for the gun. That hadn't stopped Krystal though; she fired a round at Abby, missing her by inches. So Abby had been forced to do the unthinkable. She stabbed her in the chest, once, then twice. When she had realized what she had done, she threw the knife away from her and sat sobbing over her dead friend.

Her flashback ended as what had happened next faded from her mind. She could no longer remember, but that didn't really worry her right now.

Abby began to sob. She cried for Gibbs to save her, for her whole helpless situation, but most of all, her body shook as she cried for her fallen friend.

Back at the office, McGee was showing Gibbs what they assumed had happened. A computer simulated apartment, an exact replica of Abby's came up on the projection screen. A digital Abby, complete with black pigtails and spiky jewelry appeared, standing in the middle of the computer generated room.

"This is what we know so far," explained McGee to the rest of the team, who had congregated in Abby's lab. He clicked the mouse, and another figure appeared outside the door.

"At some point last night, Tillon showed up, and Abby lets her in," as he explained the computer simulation did exactly as he said. "Something happens there, and Abby pulls out the knife-"

"That I gave her," interrupted Tony, proudly.

"Yes, Tony, the knife that you gave her," said Ziva exasperatedly, "Go on, McGee."

"Thanks. According to Ducky, all three times that Tillon was stabbed, she was standing. So it's possible that all of this was in Abby's self defense."

The digitalized Krystal suddenly appeared to have a miniature gun. The team watched transfixed as the simulation ran again. Abby was threatened with the gun, she pulled out her knife and there was a flurry of motion, in which the end result was Krystal dead on the floor.

"We found the knife several feet away from the body, so if this is true, it would appear that she threw it away. If she had been trying to get away with murder, then she wouldn't have left such obvious evidence." As he spoke the digital Abby did as he said, throwing away the knife and standing over the body.

"The main thing here," said McGee, "is that the whole time, the door was unlocked, and partially open. We found Jonathon Wesley's prints on the door, so what if he snuck in and came after Abby?" A simulated man snuck into the room, grabbing Krystal's fallen gun, and threatening Abby. He led her out of the room at gunpoint.

"All of this is just your guess though?" asked Gibbs.

"Well yes, but the door was open, and his prints were on it," argued McGee.

"Then we have to find Wesley," stated Gibbs.

"Way ahead of you, Boss," Tony informed him, "Put out an APB on Tillon's car, nothing yet, but I would bet a date, that whoever has that car, has Abby."


	4. Bert

When Abby next awoke she could finally remember everything. It came in flashes, the man coming in, being drugged, and a hazy car ride. She pounded the floor in frustration. She needed out, she needed Gibbs, she needed McGee, Tony, even Ziva, she needed a Caff-Pow, she needed Bert (the farting hippo stuffed animal), she needed to pee.

She was going crazy. Her caffeine deprived body would soon collapse. She would never see Gibbs again, or McGee, Tony or Ziva. She would never taste another Caff-Pow, or hear Bert's farts again. She was convinced she was going to die.

A soft, almost polite knock on the door jolted her out of her frantic thoughts. The door opened slowly, and Jonathon Wesley appeared.

"Please come with me, Abby, my dear," he said with his resounding English accent. He entered the cell and offered her a hand getting up. Deciding to do as she was told she stood, ignoring his helping hand. Wesley laid an arm around her waist and led her out of the room. She tried not to shudder with disgust as he touched her.

He led her down the hallway she had been through the previous time that she had gotten out, but soon the stark white hallway gave way to what appeared to be the inside of a mansion. Thick plush carpet sank beneath their feet and soon lavishly furnished rooms came into view. He led her into a bedroom, complete with a canopy bed, a floor length window, which revealed that they were on the second and top floor of a large building, and a wooden writing desk. The walls were hung with many paintings and there were sculptures scattered across the room. It was a dark kind of room, despite the art, and the window. Its walls were painted a deep blood red.

"I have taken the liberty of retrieving a few of your personal items from your apartment," he told her, gesturing to a suitcase that was lying on the bed. "Dinner will be served at six; someone will escort you to the dining hall. You see, Abby, I am not uncivilized, you will remain here as my guest," and before she could say a word, he had swept out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

The moment it had shut, she rushed over to see if the door was locked. It was. She sighed, tiredly, "Guest," she scoffed, and went to look around the room. It was definitely not very 'her', being as old fashioned as it was, but still, it was better than the cell. When she opened the suitcase, she nearly began to cry again. The item on top gave her more comfort than she'd had in days. It was Bert.

"Boss," McGee called across the bullpen, "we got a hit on Tillon's car. It's parked at a bar, about twenty minutes away." Gibbs said nothing as he gestured for the team to collect their stuff and follow him into the elevator.

Five minutes later Gibbs pulled up in a parking spot at Bill's Bar. The team, each faintly green, stepped out of the car. Gibbs gestured questioningly at the silver Honda across the lot, and McGee nodded in reply. As they surrounded the vehicle, they noticed a figure inside. After a nod from Gibbs, Ziva knocked on the driver's side front window. The window rolled down, and a very drunk man leaned out to speak, not noticing anyone, but Ziva.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, his voice slurred as he looked her up and down, taking in everything about her, except for her glare, gun, and badge.

Ziva snapped. Reaching into the car with one hand, she pulled the man up by his shirt, while using the other to press the gun firmly against his head.

"Dude," the drunk said in surprise, but she cut him off.

"Where is Abby?" she hissed venomously, "Why are you sitting in a stolen car, and do you realize that if you look at me like that again your death will be a long and painful one?"

"Who's going on? What's Abby?" he asked confusedly.

"Don't make me ask again," growled Ziva, her hand pushing the gun harder into his scalp.

"Ziva," said Gibbs to get her attention. She looked at him and he gestured for her to put the gun away. Rolling her eyes as she did so, she practically threw the man away from her.

"It's not Wesley," said McGee confused.

"No, it's not," replied Gibbs, "DiNozzo."

"Yes Boss?" came DiNozzo's nervous voice.

"Get him into interrogation."

Underneath Bert, Abby had found a selection of her clothes and shoes, as well as her toothbrush, and hairbrush. She was silently grateful for these things, but hid it, just in case her captor was watching her. On the other side of a narrow door in the corner of the room, there was a small bathroom. Abby nearly yelped with joy when she found the toilet. After finally relieving herself, she changed into her favorite plaid skirt, and black t-shirt. Unsurprisingly, there was no jewelry to go with her outfit. Abby smirked, proud of her defiance, yet she still missed her spiky collar. After she had changed, she laid on the bed to think.

Her thoughts first turned to Gibbs, and how he had been like a father to her. What he was doing to find her, she wondered. When was he going to come save her from this maniac? As for Wesley, what was he going to do to her? Why had she been taken in the first place? As she pondered these questions she almost, almost, longed for a cell, just to simplify things. She almost cried with frustration at the mind games he had insisted on playing with her. Maybe dinner would explain it all; maybe it would all become clear.


	5. The Cell

Abby had a plan by the time that her escort arrived to take her to dinner. She had exchanged her black t-shirt for a red one, and wore a black jacket over it. The sleeves were exactly the right length for what she had in mind.

As she and the guard walked down the hallway they passed many doors. Suddenly, feigning weakness, Abby fell to her knees, clinging to the guard for support. As he helped her to her feet, she discreetly slipped his cell phone out of the holder on his belt. Still hanging onto the guard with her left hand, she used her right to flip open the phone, hiding it partially in her over long sleeve.

Glad that she was so good at texting, she quickly typed out a message and sent it to Gibbs. The trick now was getting the phone back, without getting caught. She casually stepped almost directly in front of him as they walked, causing both of them to fall to the ground. As he got up she quickly dropped the phone and stood herself.

"Your cell," she pointed it out to him, and watched as he picked it up, slightly confused, at her act of kindness. They walked for another minute before he gestured to a door on their left. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. She had entered a magnificent dining room. A crystal chandelier hung over a table set for a dozen with fie china.

Wesley was sitting at the head of the table, and he motioned for her to join him. She obliged, still marveling at the room, and how it felt as though she had been sent back in time to an old English mansion. When she had been seated, a short man carrying a silver platter stepped up next to her, carrying their drinks, a glass of whine for Wesley, and surprisingly, a Caff-Pow, for Abby.

"How did you? Why are you - ?what the hell's going on?" she asked frustrated, taking a sip, well more of a gulp, of her favorite caffeinated beverage.

"All in good time, dear," he said, clapping his hands once. Another servant appeared, bearing a large platter.

"I had the chef prepare chicken, it's one of your favorites," he told her, and indeed it was. As the cover was whipped of the platter, Abby's mouth began to water.

"I'll explain, while you enjoy," he said, serving her a piece of the beautifully prepared poultry. Abby nodded as she dug in with gusto, listening carefully.

"You've been wondering why I took you away," he told her, "Why I didn't simply have you killed, but put you in a beautifully furnished room. It would have been easy to kill you though; I'd just have to poison you." Abby stopped chewing the mouth watering chicken she had in her mouth. Poison, she mentally slapped herself, she hadn't thought of that. Wesley noticed that she had stopped eating.

"I want you alive," he said convincingly. Well, Abby thought, if it is poisoned then I should enjoy a good meal before I die, and continued to eat.

"You see," he continued, "Five years ago, your Special Agent Gibbs, helped to put me in jail for murder. It nearly killed me, to go to jail, being the kind of man that I am, who has all of the finer things in life. So I escaped and came here. This facility was a boarding school back in the day, so I spruced it up a bit, before I went to jail that is. You see my dear, I suffered so much pain in prison, that I swore I'd get revenge. I swore to make Special Agent Gibbs feel a tiny part of the suffering that I went through," he was still watching her, and Abby gulped, guessing what was coming next.

"You will be dead," he said, "to him at least," he amended, seeing the terror on Abby's face. "I will tell him you are dead, send him something to prove it, blood, or you hair, anything, and you will live out the rest of your life here, with me. Don't look so astonished, it'll all work out perfectly," he told her.

"You're crazy," she yelled at him, "I'll get out, they'll find me!"

"It's possible that I'm crazy," he replied shrugging, "I've never really considered it, but good evening Abby. You should be going now." The guard entered the room behind her and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She rose and left the room, tears in her eyes. What was she going to do, she wondered hysterically.

* * *

Ziva had insisted on the honors of questioning the man that they had found. No one really argued with her. McGee and Tony were watching the whole ordeal from behind the one way mirror, laughing at their teammate's tactics. Watching Ziva was helping McGee to relax a bit, he had been so stressed since Abby had gone missing.

"I know of over a hundred ways to make you talk, but my boss insists that I ask first," she was saying, "So I will, again. What happened to Abby?" the man was still pretty drunk and apparently very confused.

"For the last time I don't know an Abby. I told you," he said holding his head in his hands, "I just stole the freakin' car okay!"

"No," she replied, yelling at him, "It's not okay, I-" but she broke off when Gibbs had entered the interrogation room. He nodded at her to leave, and sat down across the table from the man.

"Look," said the man, "I'll tell you the same think I told the chick, I stole the freakin' car, but that's it."

Ziva had joined Tony and McGee behind the mirror. Together they watched their boss, waiting to see what he had in store for the drunk.

"Wonder what he's going to do to him," commented McGee.

"Something good," replied Tony confidently, their boss was definitely the master at interrogation.

"Is that the truth?" asked Gibbs calmly, watching for a reaction.

"Yes! Of course it is!" the man said exasperatedly, "I stole the car!"

"Okay," said Gibbs getting up and moving towards the door.

"Okay," repeated the man, not sure he believed it.

"Okay?!?!?" repeated Tony disbelievingly, "That's it? That's all he's going to do!?"

"Yeah DiNozzo," said Gibbs, who had just entered the small room, and smacking his agent upside the head. "He didn't do it. He doesn't have Abby."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Ziva.

"Because of this," he replied, tossing her his phone. Catching the cell, she quickly read the text message that was on the screen.

_Gibs-_

_hlp me plaz. kdnpped bi jonuthon wesly ned help fst scrd, stl cel frm gard. hav mgee trac tis fnd me sonn_

_Abe_


	6. Calling McGee

When Abby got back to her room she began to cry harder. Her whole body shook with sobs, until she thought of Gibbs. What would he say if he saw her like this, crying and not doing anything to help herself? She dried her eyes. She wouldn't speak to her captor again, she decided, she would just plan to be too much to handle.

She began to destroy the room. It helped to vent her anger. She tore pictures from the walls, broke the sculptors, she tore the sheets of off the bed. She ripped open pillows and scattered feathers everywhere. She broke the writing desk and threw some of its pieces through the window. She went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet; she broke the mirror, and threw the pieces everywhere.

When all of this was done she began to scream. She screamed so loud that the room echoed with her yells. She only stopped when she heard pounding footsteps. Grabbing a broken table leg, she positioned herself beside the door. When it flung open she swung it hard, like a baseball bat at the head that appeared.

~*~

McGee was in Abby's lab, trying to track down where Gibbs' text message had come from, when suddenly the phone began to ring. Flustered and not sure whether or not to answer it, he did, on the very last ring.

"Gibbs," he said, before quickly amending, " 's phone,"

"McGee!" Abby's voice squealed on the other end of the line.

"Abby?" he asked surprised, to say the least, "Where? How did -? What's going on?"

"I don't have much time," Abby told him, "I've been taken away by Jonathon Wesley; I'm at some unused boarding school. He wants revenge on Gibbs, wants him to think I'm-" her voice cut off for a moment before he heard her gasp and the line went dead.

"Abby!" he yelled into the phone, but it was too late. She was gone, but not before he had gotten a lock on the cell phone's signal. Absentmindedly putting the phone down, he pulled out his own and called Gibbs. The phone rung once in his ear, and once on the table, before he realized his mistake.

"Damn," he muttered, hanging up and calling DiNozzo. In every second they wasted, Abby could be killed.

"Put Gibbs on," he practically yelled when Tony answered.

"Nice talking to you to," replied Tony sarcastically.

"Damnit Tony, put him on!" McGee actually yelled this time.

"Okay, okay," said Tony, "Sheesh!" There was a moment of static, before he came on.

"What McGee," Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Boss, it's Abby, she called from a boarding school, she needs help, he caught her calling, he wants revenge," McGee said in one breathe.

"Slow down," Gibbs told him, "I'm on my way."

"Explain what happened," McGee was told by Gibbs, minutes later. He had been on his way to Abby's when McGee had called, and done a dangerous U-turn to get back.

"Okay. I was tracing your text message, when your phone rang, so I answered it," he didn't look Gibbs in the eyes at that point, knowing full well that if he had answered Gibbs' phone any other time he would have gotten a head slap at the very least.

"It was Abby," he continued, "She said she was taken by Jonathon Wesley, and they were at a boarding school," Gibbs threw him a questioning look.

"I know," answered McGee, "It didn't make sense until I finished tracing the call. Then she said that he was out for revenge, that he wanted you to think-, and she stopped there. The last thing I heard was her gasp, and the line went dead.

"You said you traced the call," prompted Gibbs, trying not to dwell on Abby's fate.

"It was made from somewhere in the Mountains, near Charleston NC. I did a quick search and there's an old boarding school in the middle of the area. Cliff's Academy, it was shut down a few years ago and the campus was bought by Wesley. We have to go there. He's got Abby, he could kill her!" He nearly screamed the last part at Gibbs.

"We will," stated Gibbs, looking the agent in the eyes, trying to convey the understanding that he felt. After all, Abby was like his own daughter, he wasn't about to let her go, not now, not ever.

~*~

"He wants him to think I'm-" Abby froze mid-sentence as she felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of her head.

"Don't say another word," a voice whispered in her ear, "I will shoot you if I have to. Turn around slowly and drop the phone."

She did so, and came face to face with Wesley. She dropped the phone, hearing it clatter to the ground. She saw the anger, the fury, in Wesley's hard brown eyes.

"I'm disappointed in you, Abby," he told her, "I was hoping you would behave, but after what you did to my guard, back there…" He sighed, "We'll have to do this the hard way then."

He grabbed her roughly by the arm, and dragged her back down the hallway, back to the hospital like section of the building. They arrived back at the room that she recognized as her original cell. The only difference was the hard wooden chair and roll of silver duct tape sitting in the center of the tiny room.

"You're not going to -," she began, but he slapped her hard across the face with the barrel of the gun.

"Sit," he ordered, waving the gun threateningly at her. She did so, trying to think fast.

"Silver isn't really my colo-" she started to say.

"Shut up," he told her simply, hitting her across the face again. A bruise began to rise over her right cheek. First he bound her hands together with duct tape, using only one of his hands so as to keep the gun pointed at her. Next he did her legs together at the ankle. Lastly he stuck a short piece of the silver tape over her mouth. Fear shone in her bright blue eyes as he turned and left the room, taking what little light had managed to seep in through the open door, with him. There was a scraping sound as something large was pushed in front of the door. She was left alone, in the dark, to cry.


	7. Enough Time?

It was an excruciatingly long car ride, about four hours. It was made shorter, but not any easier, by the fact that it was Gibbs who was driving. Ziva was in the front, after a short fight with Tony, in which he tried to explain the concept of 'shotgun' and she explained that she would kick him in a very unpleasant place if he didn't let her ride in the front. Tony sat sulking in the back with McGee, who was glaring out of the window. He hadn't said a word since they had left, and the others let him brood.

It was clear to all of them that he loved her, more than everyone else. He loved her more than a sister, like Tony, more than a daughter, like Gibbs, but he would never admit it to her. He knew that everyone else knew. That to them it was obvious, to them, but not to Abby. Sweet, oblivious Abby. He missed the sound of her voice, her laugh, the way her silky black pigtails fell, the concentration in her beautiful eyes, when she was working. What hell was she enduring as they sped on their way? Was she even alive? An image of her, lying spread eagled on the floor, flashed before his eyes. Blood was blossoming over her chest from the bullet wound in her shoulder. Her eyes were pale and lifeless.

He closed his own eyes, and shook himself mentally to get rid of the horrific image. They were now driving through the mountains, the scenery was beautiful, but he didn't notice. All he could think of was Abby. He was going to kill Wesley if he found out that he had hurt her.

~*~

Abby didn't know how long she had sat there. All she knew was that something was up. She heard voices, and pounding footsteps running past the cell. Shots were fired, and slowly the noise faded away. Why hadn't someone come for her? Hours passed and soon there appeared to be no one in the house. They hadn't found her, they might never find her.

~*~

They had been lucky. When they arrived there had only been Wesley, and a few servants, who had given up right away. Wesley hadn't wanted to come easily, even though he was surrounded. He tried to shoot Tony, but missed, so McGee had shot him, twice in the heart. He had died immediately. Gibbs was slightly disappointed that he hadn't gotten a go at Wesley, but couldn't care much for the loss. The only problem now was, they soon realized, that they couldn't find Abby.

"She's not here," Tony was saying, "We searched every freakin' room."

"Then where is she?" asked Ziva argumentatively.

"She's got to be here," Gibbs said firmly.

"He could have moved her on our way here," debated Tony. They all looked at McGee, awaiting his opinion, but he said nothing at all. He still hadn't spoken since he had shot Wesley.

"What do you think," Tony finally resorted to asking, tired of just waiting for a response. McGee still remained silent; instead he turned away and stomped off. Tony was about to follow him, but Gibbs laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him go," he said, "He needs some time." Tony nodded, and watched the younger agent walk off.

McGee couldn't shake the feeling that all of this was his fault. If only he had figured the whole thing out sooner, she might be safe by now. He wandered into the room that they had found her clothes in. It was completely destroyed, except for the pile of her clothes and Bert. He absentmindedly picked Bert up, and left the room. He continued down the hallway. Soon the walls turned white and the carpet floor turned to tile. He stopped walking; there was nothing to see there. As the echo of his footsteps faded away, he heard another sound, a muffled crying.

Was he imagining it? He listened hard. Trying to tell where it came from. There were no doors nearby, just a large wooden bookshelf, looking very out of place on the plain white wall. He went over to it and the sound got louder. He looked at the floor; there were scuff marks on the tile. It looked as though it had been recently moved. He put his shoulder against the side of it and pushed. It moved a few inches, and he pushed harder, it moved a few feet more. Finally he had moved it several feet, so he stopped and looked at the wall. It was no longer just a wall, but a door.

Knowing what he would find on the other side, he pulled it open. There was Abby, his sweet, precious Abby, crying and taped to a chair; a large, purple bruise was partially covered up by the tape over her mouth. He rushed in and embraced her.

"It's okay now, "he murmured in her ear, "I found you, and it's alright." He slowly pulled the tape off of her mouth, but this made her cry harder. Her body shook with sobs. Pulling out his cell and his pocket knife simultaneously, he dialed Gibbs, while cutting Abby free of the silver tape.

"Gibbs," came a terse answer.

"I found her," McGee told him, and explained where he was. He hung up before Gibbs could reply, not really caring what he was going to say. All that mattered now was that his precious Abby was safe.

A.N. - Thanks to all my loyal readers. I'm going away for the weekend, but I do have the last few chapters written, so I'll post them when i get back next week!


	8. Getting Abby Home

By the time that Gibbs had gotten there, Abby was completely free, and had begun to calm down. When she saw Gibbs though, the tears began to fall hard and fast from her face. She was clutching Bert, and McGee was standing behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

Gibbs entered the cell, kneeling to look her in the eyes, and hugged her. She let him, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt like she was eight again, crying with her dad. Gibbs stroked her hair softly, and murmured in her ear.

"Abby, Abby, it's okay. You're safe now, safe. I'm here, we all are. Stop crying, come on, its okay," he comforted her. She pulled away from him and tried to stem the tears flowing from her eyes. Gibbs stood and pulled McGee over to one side, letting Tony and Ziva speak to Abby.

"You did well," he told the younger agent. McGee just nodded, desperate to get back to Abby.

"Wait, what?" he asked, finally realizing what Gibbs had said.

"You did well," Gibbs repeated, looking him in the eye, "You found her, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," said McGee, standing up a little bit straighter. Praise from Gibbs was hard to come by.

"Maybe we should get her home," Tony interrupted their conversation, trying to help Abby stand up.

"Let's go," agreed Gibbs.

The weather was cold and rainy as they drove out of the mountains. They stopped to buy Abby a hot chocolate to stop her from shaking, which she had been doing since they left, but she insisted on a Caff-Pow. Abby still seemed to be in shock. Constantly shaking and always on the verge of tears. They all agreed that she shouldn't be sent home alone, and after a quick debate they decided that she would be best off at McGee's. He knew that they were just taking advantage of his feelings for her. They knew that his extra love for her would be the most comforting.

They stopped by Abby's house, and Gibbs ran in to grab her some clothes. He seemed determined to help her in any way he could, but her going back into her apartment seemed a bad idea. They dropped McGee and Abby off at McGee's apartment and before driving away, Gibbs called out to them.

"McGee, I expect you at work tomorrow morning, and Abby, you stay here, try to rest." McGee waved to show that they understood, and put an arm around Abby, leading her out of the rain, and inside.

When they got up to his apartment it was early in the evening. Abby went into the bathroom to change and when she came out she plopped herself down on his bed, staring into the black TV as if in a daze.

"It works better when it's on," he told her, handing her the remote, "Are you hungry?" She said nothing, but nodded slowly. "Popcorn okay?" he asked, slightly worried about her. She nodded again.

Soon the machine gun sounds of popping popcorn flowed out of the kitchen. Minutes later he sat down next to her, handing her a bowl of steaming popcorn. He pulled a blanket over the both of them, and together they began to watch a scary movie, that she had flipped to.

Hours later they were still sitting there, eyes glued to the television. McGee had his legs stretched out in front of him; Abby was curled into a ball, with her feet up under her, leaning against him. He had his arm around her, fingering her pigtails, and she was resting her head on his chest.

"I was scared," she said suddenly, in a small voice, looking up at him.

"It's just a chain saw," he told her, referring to the movie that they were watching.

"Not that," she said sitting up, "When I was tied up. I thought about you, you and Gibbs and Tony."

"You did?" he asked, slightly disappointed that she had moved, but glad to hear what she was saying.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," she continued in a small voice, "I thought I was going to die, and you would never find me."

"I'll always find you, I'll always be here for you," he promised, turning of the TV and kissing her gently on the head, "I've got to work tomorrow, so sleep okay?" He lay down. "Wake me up if you need anything. Sweet dreams."

"Okay," she answered, lying down also, "You too." He turned off the light, and together they slept.

In the morning when he awoke, she was already up waiting for him, and fiddling with his computer.

"Abs, why are you up?" He asked as he entered the room, "Gibbs told you to stay here all day."

"I'm going to work," she told him firmly.

"Bu-" started McGee.

"No, McGee. I'm going," she argued.

"Fine, but if Gibbs blames me-" he began, but Abby finished for him.

"I'll tell him I made you, which I am," she agreed.

"We had better leave now then, to get Gibbs a coffee. He's going to kill me for letting you come," and together they left.


	9. Cleared

McGee was putting Gibbs' coffee on his desk, when suddenly he was smacked upside the back of the head.

"Why," Gibbs yelled, "is Abby in her lab?"

"She wanted to come, she wouldn't take no for an answer," said McGee defensively, "You know how she gets."

"Yeah, I do," agreed Gibbs calmly, before beginning to yell again, "You idiot! She's still been accused of murder. I pulled a few strings with the Director, so she could stay at your place and not go to jail! And you let her come back here! Any evidence she could've had access to can now be accused of being tampered with! I-"

"Crap," muttered McGee and leaving his Boss in mid-sentence, he ran to the elevator that led to Abby's lab.

When he got there, the lights were off, as were the computers. He flicked the switch on, and looked around for Abby. Suddenly a soft pillow, hit him in the back of the head and he spun around.

"McGee," whined Abby. She had obviously been sleeping before he had turned on the light. She was sitting up on the bench in the corner, stretching. She slipped her feet into her favorite combat boots as she stood up.

"What is i-" she began to ask, but at that moment Gibbs burst in. It had taken him a minute to realize that McGee had really left, before following him.

"Please tell me I only dreamt you leaving when I was talking," he was yelling, "We still have to prove that Abby didn't murder that-" He stopped when he realized that she was there.

"Don't yell at him," she said defensively, "I made him bring me," her eyes began to swell up with tears. Knowing that this wasn't really about McGee, Gibbs tried to comfort her.

"I didn't mean it to sound like that, Abs," he began, but she cut him off.

"I can show you what happened," she said softly, not meeting their eyes, "Take me back to my place and I can prove that I didn't just murder Kry-" she gulped, "that I'm not a murderer."

"But, Abby, we went over your place a thousand times," argued McGee, but Gibbs interrupted him.

"Okay," he said, "Let's go,"

In the end it was just McGee, Gibbs, and Abby that went. Tony had argued that he wanted to come. After all it was he and Ziva that had gone back there, he wanted to see what they had missed. After a 'shut up DiNozzo' and a slap on the back of the head, he had finally given in, and let them leave without him.

When they got up to her apartment, Abby stopped outside the door. She needed a second to compose herself. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. It was almost as if the whole nightmare had never happened. The only thing left that showed that Krystal had even been there was the abandoned six-pack on the floor.

"So where's the proof?" asked McGee disbelievingly. He knew they needed that evidence to clear Abby's name, but the chance that there was something here seemed so small.

"Here," said Abby, crossing over to the corner of the room, where there was a black bookcase overflowing with knick-knacks.

She picked up the miniature skull that was sitting on top, revealing a video camera underneath it.

"Everything's on this," she said, handing it to Gibbs. Unexpectedly, McGee embraced her, so relieved that she was safe. She tensed in his embrace, before relaxing and returning the hug.

"You're amazing," he whispered in her ear, stroking her pigtails.

"Not bad yourself," she replied, also whispering. Gibbs simply smiled and looked away, faintly disapproving, after all this was a possible infliction of Rule 12, but finally his insane family was back together.


End file.
